The Smell of Poppies
by LovelyLytton
Summary: Nephrite tries his best, he always does. SilMil. Dark subject matter.


**The Smell of Poppies**

**

* * *

**

When mastering the divine art of fortune telling, one has to pay a price. The deities don't share their knowledge with mere mortals without demanding something in return. Nephrite knew that better than anyone else.

There was a constant demand for vigilance. The Silver Alliance was a threat to Terra's autonomy, and now that even their prince had fallen prey to the Moon witch's daughter, there was precious little the shitennou could do to save their home. Sure, they could (and would) fight when the time came, but for now, they had to prepare themselves and their subjects for the war that was to come. Zoisite barely left the library, reading book after book in a vain attempt to find another line of defence against the demonic beings from the surrounding planets. Jadeite was meditating, sharpening his senses so that he would know the exact moment the senshi would set foot on their grounds. The younger man could not only read minds, but also feel the presence of intruders long before they came into vision. Nobody really knew what Kunzite was doing in the dungeons, with Lady Beryl of all people, but the trust they put in their commander was absolute. If anyone could save them all now that Endymion had left them out in the cold, it was Kunzite. As for himself, all Nephrite could do was to look at the stars, waiting for them to speak to him and tell him tales of the future. It was ironic that he was asking the same entities for help that threatened to destroy them all, but so far, it had worked.

Reaching for the heavy bottle, he pulled the cork out and dropped a small green ball of opium in it. Swishing the bottle around, he watched the substance dissolve. Finally, there was nothing but smooth wine in the bottle; wine that would taste just a bit too bitter. Not allowing himself to hesitate, Nephrite brought the bottle to his mouth and drank.

The effect was immediate.

At the same time his sixth sense sharpened, he could feel his limbs getting heavy. It was like walking up a mountain in full armour, sweat running into his eyes and lungs starting to burn. But the stars began to talk and Nephrite knew that it was them he had to focus on. The visions of the future were never concise and if he lost his focus for just one second, he might miss the crucial detail that could save them all. Forcing his body to remain awake, he looked at the sky, never wavering.

* * *

The morning sun had just appeared in the east, casting the first lazy rays of sunshine over the fields. An unusual pair walked along a muddy path.

"You cannot tell me that you have no idea what Kunzite is doing down there. You're basically his pet, you know _everything_," Jadeite insisted, a frown on his face.

"His pet? What planet do you live on?" Zoisite fired back, too tired to try to push his comrade into the yellow corn. The time for harvest was almost over, but the people were afraid of walking out into the open fields. They were terrified that the sky would fall onto them. While Zoisite knew that wasn't going to happen, he nevertheless understood their fear of the powerful enemies from above. He had met Jupiter and Venus, had watched them practice from a hiding point behind a conveniently located pillar. The memory still gave him nightmares and the event had taken place years ago. There was no telling what they were capable of now.

"My point is that you've got to know something."

Zoisite looked at his muddy boots and shook his head. "Nothing. I hope that they're working on something good though, a weapon perhaps."

"What weapon could save us from _them_?"Jadeite had followed his thoughts, had dipped into the memory of the sparring senshi and now felt Zoisite's fear just as he felt the morning chill.

"I don't know."

"And more importantly: what weapon can save us from Endymion? If he turns on us, then there is nothing we can do. You know what power he yields."

"Well, let's just hope that the Moon people don't. Let's hope that they'll leave him on the Moon with their insipid princess when they come down to end us all."

Jadeite laughed, and it sounded almost genuine. "I thought you liked Serenity. Weren't you the one who tried to convince us all that Endymion's alliance with her could improve our situation?"

"That was before I met Jupiter and Venus. Long before I met Jupiter and Venus."

Rubbing his neck, Jadeite threw his comrade a sideways glance. "Mars isn't any better."

"I know."

After a moment of silence, Jadeite changed the topic, aiming for boisterous, but missing the mark by miles. "And what the fuck is going on with Nephrite? Have you seen how he looks?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Zoisite let his eyes roam over the fields. Their kingdom was beautiful, it was worth protecting. "You know what's going on with him. The second the sun sets, he's up on that tower, staring at the sky. He's doing what he can."

"Has he learnt something yet?" Jadeite asked, his voice suddenly sober and anxious.

"No. Why don't you just walk past the tower and listen in on his thoughts if you're worried about him?"

"It's not that easy, you dolt. He's not like you, with your feelings and thoughts all in the open. And I'd rather save my energy for when we need it. Nephrite can tell us when the pieces fall into place, I can tell us when they're close and what they're thinking, and then between you and Kunzite, we'll have some plan of defence and attack."

Zoisite smiled and looked at the fields. Maybe the sky wouldn't fall down on them, maybe they had a chance.

* * *

It wasn't all that long ago that the shitennou and their prince met for breakfast in the servants' kitchen before the rest of the palace woke up. Every since Endymion had left them, this ritual had withered and died. Nowadays, it was a complete accident if the men ran into each other while getting food. There were no dinners, no banquets, no drinking games. Suddenly, it was each to their own, so when Kunzite walked into the kitchen and saw Nephrite sitting on a bench and staring into the fire in the hearth, the older man was surprised.

"Nephrite. Good morning."

Nephrite nodded, but didn't turn his head. Reaching for a bread, Kunzite sat down next to Nephrite. "Any news?" Not moving, Nephrite simply stared ahead, his brown eyes fastened on the curling flames. His eyes looked vacant, out of it. While Jadeite would have probably shoved him off the bench to wake him from whatever thoughts were keeping him captive, Kunzite simply said his name again, not louder, but with more gravitas. Slowly, Nephrite turned to look at him.

"Oh, hello."

"I asked you whether there were any news," Kunzite repeated evenly.

Nephrite blinked. "News... no, no news. Everything is quiet." Kunzite tore off half of the bread and offered it to Nephrite. He took it with uncertain and hesitant hands, and something about it unsettled Kunzite. Nephrite had always been the strongest of them all, at least physically, and yet here he was, moving like an old man. Kunzite was certain that it was Endymion's leaving that had transformed the warrior into this pitiful shell. Endymion leaving had changed all of them. "Go to bed," Kunzite said briskly and pushed himself off the bench, walking out of the kitchen with long strides.

Nephrite remained right where he was, bread in hand.

* * *

The days went on, the fields were still ripe and golden and untouched, and the world held its breath. Autumn raced past, the corn withered and died and the people went hungry. There was more food in the palace than in the villages, but nobody thought it odd that Nephrite was getting thinner by the day. All the shitennou shared their food with their servants and Nephrite had always been more generous than anyone else. He liked to give, liked to share. His heart was simply too soft to see people suffer.

* * *

Smoothing the creases on her velvet skirt, Beryl looked into the golden mirror. There was a woman worth looking at, she thought to herself. Her hair was as red as the roses that the prince used to grow in the garden, her skin as white as the marble she walked on. She was beautiful, now more than ever. Unlike others, she was unaffected by the famine and the worry; she had other sources to draw energy from. There was a dark place at the centre of the palace, unseen by everyone but herself. When the old king had still lived, it had been a prayer room, light and full of air. She had been there once or twice, but since it was usually reserved for the royal family, these occasions were rare. Now it was hers. There was no light left in that room, even though the roof was made from thin crystal. There was only raw, untapped energy. Maybe she would show it to Kunzite. Mulling this thought over, she smiled. Maybe she would show it to him today.

* * *

It wasn't his bones that ached, Nephrite realised. It was every sinew, every muscle. He had felt like this after the first sparring lessons Kunzite had given him, after the secret boxing fights with the foot soldiers in the old barn behind the stables. Once Endymion had found out what his shitennou was doing in his free time and for simple entertainment, he had put his foot down and Nephrite into the infirmary. It was one of the first times the prince had pulled rank, and Nephrite had been quietly glad about it.

Shaking his head, a movement he immediately regretted, Nephrite focused his attention back on the stars. Something was shifting, and they were trying to tell him. On the floor beside him, an empty bottle and a small leather pouch lay next to each other. The air smelled faintly of poppies.

* * *

Zoisite was walking down the hall leading to his chambers when an arm reached out and pulled him into a small corridor. There was no mistaking the identity of his abductor, the hair was a dead give-away.

"Kunzite, what's going on?"

"I have to show you something."

"Good or bad?"

Kunzite didn't stop, but let go of Zoisite's arm, confident that the youngest shitennou would follow him. Once Zoisite's interest in something was peaked, he was like a dog with a bone.

"Both," Kunzite answered mysteriously and the two men hurried towards the old prayer room.

* * *

Up in the tower, Nephrite was lying on the floor, eyes closed to the stars and the world. He could feel the wooden floor underneath him, feel the wind tugging at the tower and with his eyes closed, he was sure that it was swaying. It would fall over soon, and then everything would be over. Finally, peacefully over.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," a snide voice cut through the haze. Slowly tearing his eyes open, the image of Jadeite materialised in front of him.

"I thought you were meditating, looking at the stars, hearing words of wisdom whispered by the wind or whatever it is that you do, and instead, you're lying on the floor in your own piss, drunk as a skunk. Just wait until I tell Kunzite about this. He'll have your head for breakfast." Nephrite closed his eyes again, trying to shut his comrade out.

"Oh no, sleepy time is over!" Jadeite insisted, and Nephrite felt himself being unceremoniously yanked to his feet. Once he stood, Jadeite let go of him and Nephrite's knees buckled, sending him right back on the dirty floor. This time, he didn't open his eyes again.

* * *

Three men stood in front of the infirmary, but only one did the talking. The two others were silent, feeling a new guilt dig into their bones. Not only had they not been able to keep their prince where he belonged, they had also not seen what was happening right in front of them for months.

"It's the opium that's doing it," Jadeite said, undirected anger dancing around every word. "The healers say that he probably dissolved it in wine to heighten his senses, but it has backfired. It's affecting his whole nervous system, paralysing him. He can't even open his eyes anymore."

Kunzite was quiet, his face a mask. Zoisite eventually took over, asking the question his commander was too terrified to pose. "Will he recover?"

Jadeite looked down. "No. If Endymion were here, we might be able to save him."

Zoisite's mouth fell open. "Are you saying that he's going to die? He's was killing himself all this time?" Jadeite didn't look up and it was answer enough.

Kunzite broke away from them then and walked into the infirmary, softly closing the door behind him.

Clenching and unclenching his hands, Zoisite bit his lip. "What?" Jadeite asked immediately. They had not spent years training and living together without picking up on some tell-tale signs. Zoisite biting his lip usually meant that there was something he knew and didn't want to share. "Is there something that could help him? Whatever idea you have, you need to tell me. He's dying in there, Zoisite. No time for second-guessing. No time wondering whether Kunzite will approve."

Closing his eyes, Zoisite drew a deep breath. "We need to call the Lady Beryl, and we need to get him to the old prayer room."

* * *

Some stories are too good to be true. Some are too scary.

None of the healers could understand how the dying Nephrite came to walk the halls the very next day, his stride vigorous, his eyes clear and his laugh loud. He looked like he had before the prince had left the kingdom, vibrant and unmistakeably alive. He no longer went up his tower and no longer spoke to the stars. Instead, he began to train the army, claiming the final battle would come within days. In a loud voice, he told them that the people of Earth were done waiting for the Silver Alliance to strike first, they would go up to the Moon themselves. It was the time for freedom, it was the time to fight. Beside him, the Lady Beryl smiled, revelling in his power and her beauty. The time had come.

* * *

**The End**


End file.
